


Strangers

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Akiyama Nobutomo Belongs to @judasetcetera, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Possessive Behavior, Sleeping with the enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 16:15:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17144999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Only time will truly tell.





	Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Akiyama Nobutomo is an OC created by my friend @judasetcetera.

After the whole damn ransom deal was over and done with, Nobutomo found it hard to sleep for months. His mind was never quiet – every thought led, in one way or another, to Mitsuhide. The last he had seen of that man was when Oda Nobunaga had made an appearance, offering an agreed ransom amount in return for his general. Out of sight, unfortunately, didn’t always mean out of mind. 

He’d think of how warm his body was against his own and how close they’d been pressed together, one lax second and his mind would fill with thoughts of their frantic kisses, of pale hair and slender fingers. Yet, there had been no denying the absolute adoration in Mitsuhide’s eyes as he’d swayed on his feet, taking one step after another towards Oda until he was back at his side, where he belonged. 

_Where he belonged._

Nobutomo clenched his fists and forced himself to breathe – breathe, just breathe, there was nothing he could do about it now. Mitsuhide was not anywhere near Kai, and in any case, he was an _enemy_ of the Takeda, nothing more and nothing less. It mattered not that he’d felt closer to Mitsuhide than to any sexual partner he’d ever had in his life, and it mattered not that it was his face he would see in his turbulent dreams, when he actually managed to sleep. Now that the ransom had been paid and Mitsuhide had been returned, they were just as much enemies as they were before. They had never _stopped_ being enemies even then.

And even so – 

Even so, he still wanted to shove him to the ground and kiss him breathless and tangle his fingers in that white hair. Nobutomo wanted to mark up every inch of his skin with bruises, with bite marks, little cuts, wishing that they would never fade but knowing full well that such things were only temporary. Mitsuhide belonged to Oda in mind and in body – even _when_ it was Nobutomo’s name that he’d been crying out just a few weeks ago as he tossed his head back, as his toes curled, as Nobutomo drove him over and over again to his breaking point.

Perhaps they would face each other in battle again, months later, whenever Oda dared to attack Kai. They all knew it was inevitable – already, Oda had begun to turn on his own allies, eliminating them when he no longer found them useful. One day, he would face Akechi Mitsuhide on the battlefield once more, and he would remember without fault every touch they had ever shared.

He wondered, briefly, whether Mitsuhide would remember as well – or whether Nobutomo would be little more than a stranger to him by that time. 

In any case, there was no way to know before then, and Nobutomo didn’t need to look beneath his blanket to know that there were consequences of letting his thoughts constantly rotate around Mitsuhide’s time in captivity. Of what they had done – on each surface, there on the floor and that wall, that corner. Nobutomo was in over his head, and he was well aware of it.

Heaving a sigh, Nobutomo closed his eyes, reluctantly let his thoughts again drift to white hair and a wicked smirk and lean legs, and took himself in hand.


End file.
